From Fever to Death
by Anti Darth Ani
Summary: Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl found dead in her kitchen while home alone.
1. Chapter One

From Fever To Death  
  
By: Anti Darth Ani  
  
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  
  
Author's Introduction:  
  
This is my first attempt at a CSI fan-fic. And I must admit, it isn't as easy as I thought it would be. But I'm trying. If you have already starting reading this fan-fic, please just go ahead and start over from the beginning because I've gone through and changed it. Some of the changes are small, but others are huge and if you don't go back and read, you are going to be very confused by the end of the chapter. Thanks so much and sorry for the inconvenience. I hope this change doesn't bother anyone too much.  
  
I simply cannot start again without saying a huge 'THANK YOU' to all my readers and reviewers. It's people like you who keep me going on these things.  
  
Try reading this while listening to Gavin DeGraw or Jason Mraz. That's the music I am listening to while I write this fan-fic.  
  
Synopsis:  
  
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.  
  
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance  
  
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.  
  
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CHAPTER ONE  
  
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Sara Sidle and Nick Stokes walked side by side up to a nice, medium sized house in the middle of Las Vegas. It would have looked cozy too, if the white paint hadn't had the reflection of blue and red flashing lights. The yellow crime scene tape didn't help the garden to the right of the driveway, either. Nick held up the 'Crime Scene: Do Not Cross' tape, and Sara ducked, walking under it. Nick followed her and dropped the tape behind him.  
  
Detective Jim Brass was already waiting for them, standing near the ambulance where medical workers were waiting to take the body. Sara and Nick greeted Jim Brass, however neither were in a very good mood because Grissom and Catherine, the two senior investigators, both were off for the week and they would have to work the scene alone with another CSI, Warrick Brown, who they didn't see.  
  
"So what are we looking at tonight?" Nick asked Brass, trying not to yawn from the two mere hours of sleep he had managed. One of the low points of working graveyard shift for the government.  
  
Detective Brass glanced down at his trusty little notebook, where he kept all his important notes. "Well, according to David, who's still inside with the victim, there are no entry wounds or puncture wounds. Blunt force trauma, bullets, and stabbing have been crossed off. He is still looking for ligature marks, to see if she struggled. If he can't find anything farther, we are going to have to wait until the body is checked out by Doctor Roberts, which might take a while."  
  
"Time we don't have," Sara pointed out. "And have you seen Warrick? He was appointed the head on this case, but he wasn't at the lab when we left."  
  
Jim Brass smiled, or did something that was as close to a smile as Jim could get, "Yeah, I've seen him. He was the second one on the scene, besides me. He's inside, looking for evidence, which is what you two are supposed to be doing."  
  
"Point taken," Nick smiled, making his way past the police and into the house. The house was decorated nicely, which Sara pointed out to Nick. "A little too Marta Stewart for my taste, but it's a family house," Nick retorted.  
  
Sara started up the stairs to look for Warrick, while Nick went into the kitchen to talk with David and to start taking pictures of the victim. Sara walked up the white, carpeted stairs and glanced shortly at all the hanging pictures. Many were of a middle aged woman, blond and blue eyes. Would have made a perfect Nazi. She didn't appear older than her late thirties. A man, presumably her husband, stood in many of the pictures with a little girl, no older than twelve, who looked more like her father than her mother. Her father was brown eyed and had black hair. Interesting mix, Sara thought while she reached the landing.  
  
All of the doors were opened. Cautiously, Sara peeked into each one, until she found Warrick dusting for fingerprints in the second door to the left. Just with one look, Sara knew she was in the little girl's room who was in all the pictures. The only lighting in the room was coming from the large window straight ahead, across from Sara. "Do you want some light in here?" Sara asked, her current 'hello' to her co-worker. Warrick looked up from the window. "If you can find the light switch."   
  
Sara reached to flick the light switch up, but Warrick first snapped, "Not without your gloves." Sara almost blushed, feeling foolish that she had forgotten about her latex gloves, which were in her vest belt. She pulled them out and slid them on her hands, before once again reaching for the light switch and flicking it on.  
  
Sara froze when the blue and pink lights filled the entire room. As Sara looked around, it appeared that the whole room was covered with neon rope lights, which covered the top and bottom perimeter of the entire room. They also covered the door frames, and the borders of the dresser, nightstand, and bookcase. Yet, there did not appear to be a lamp anywhere in the room. Warrick turned around in a squatting position. "Holy crap," was all he could manage. "I believe the victim was afraid of the dark."  
  
Sara shook Warrick a nervous look, "The victim is the little girl?" she asked, clueless.  
  
Warrick nodded silently, "Yeah, Brass didn't tell you? I thought you and Nick already knew. That's why I figured I'd start looking in here. I've got a bunch of partials from the window sill, but nothing that can be used. I also have a few prints off the door handle, inside and out." Staring at Sara, who had a glazed over look, "Why don't you go downstairs and help Nick start in the kitchen. At first glance, I couldn't find anything, so it isn't going to be an easy or fast case."  
  
"They rarely are," Sara pointed out, leaving Warrick to work and heading back downstairs to help Nick in the kitchen. When she pushed the swinging door, she paused, glancing down at the body of a little girl laying on the tile floor. Sara forced herself to take deep breaths to prevent from barfing. In, out, in, out she reminded herself.  
  
Nick glanced up at Sara and gave a half smile, "See our latest mission?" He held the camera back up to his eye and continued snapping pictures. He started close to the body, taking pictures from all four cardinal directions before stepping out further and taking pictures from a distance. Sara ignored Nick and walked slowly over the David, watching where she was stepping and moving carefully. When she reached David, she didn't move an inch. "What do you know about our little pretty, pretty princess?" she asked, trying to ease the situation a little and failing.  
  
David pulled off his latex gloves. "Well, I finally found out your cause of death. I can't be one hundred percent sure until I get the body to the lab and run some test, but…"  
  
"But what, David?" Sara asked, inpatient.  
  
"I believe the cause of death to be poison," he answered. "When you guys are done with the body come get us so we can get her to the lab," he added without missing a beat.  
  
As David left the room, Brass pushed the door in part way, "Guess who just arrived home?" he asked.  
  
"I'm in no mood for guessing games," Nick answered, without taking his eyes off the crime scene. He had moved from photographing the body to snapping of shots of the floor and surrounding areas, even the walls.  
  
Jim Brass didn't like Nick's sarcasm. "The parents just arrived. They are freaked out and I haven't even gotten a word in, so they don't know even know that their daughter is dead yet."  
  
"You mean the parents weren't home when this happened? Then who called in the victim's death?" Sara asked.  
  
Brass actually grinned, "A noisy neighbor."  
  
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Well, it's getting a little late, so I am just going to have to leave it here for today. Stay tuned for a new chapter soon. All reviews are welcome and gravely appreciated… I promise the next chapter will be a little longer. 


	2. Chapter Two

From Fever To Death  
  
By: Anti Darth Ani  
  
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  
  
Author's Introduction:  
  
This is my first attempt at a CSI fan-fic. And I must admit, it isn't as easy as I thought it would be. But I'm trying. If you have already starting reading this fan-fic, please just go ahead and start over from the beginning because I've gone through and changed it. Some of the changes are small, but others are huge and if you don't go back and read, you are going to be very confused by the end of the chapter. Thanks so much and sorry for the inconvenience. I hope this change doesn't bother anyone too much.  
  
Thanks to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. I love you all so much!!!! Make sure you tell me what you think of my new chapter!  
  
Synopsis:  
  
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.  
  
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance  
  
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.  
  
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CHAPTER TWO  
  
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Sara walked after Brass out to the front of the house. The blond and brunette couple she had seen in the pictures was standing in the driveway, the wife crying and the husband yelling at the closest police office, who appeared to shudder with discomfort. Sara almost smiled. The police officers were the ones with the dangerous jobs, and yet they couldn't even handle a middle aged man. Not that Sara wanted their jobs. She would much rather deal with the evidence instead of people. The evidence didn't lie.  
  
"I'm Sara Sidle, from the crime lab," Sara told the couple, in a business-like manner.  
  
"What crime happened? Did someone rob us? Was Emily kidnapped? What happened?" the wife cried, frustrated and confused. "Tell us what happened in our house!"  
  
Sara glanced at Detective Brass before saying a word. She never wanted to be the one to tell the victim's family. It wasn't her job. But she was pushed into a corner and she couldn't find a way out. Brass didn't even give her a sideways glance. Sara took a forced breath and turned her attention back to the parents. "Your daughter, I'm afraid that she was killed. We don't know how yet…"  
  
"What do you mean our daughter was killed?" the husband yelled, staring straight at Sara. "You must be mistaken. We have a high tech security system and the neighbor checks on her every half hour. She can't possibly be dead."  
  
"I'm afraid she is, Sir. But please remain calm. My co-workers and I are working to solve your daughter's death and if she was murdered, than we will try to bring her killer to justice." Sara couldn't look at the mother. They had these calls and cases over two dozens time a year. And it never got any easier. Sara couldn't understand why anyone would want to kill an innocent, helpless child.  
  
The wife started to full out bawl. Sara knew it was an emotional time. It didn't help any when David came out of the house, followed by a stretcher with a lump, covered with a white blanket. "Oh GOD!" the wife called, clutching to her husband's arm. "Oh GOD!" she repeated, leaning against him fully. It was going to be a long night.  
  
Nick studied the outside of the house. He walked all along the perimeter of the house with his mini-flashlight, looking up against the house and then out in the yard. He had to cover every inch of the yard. Lucky for him, the house had a small yard, with only about a five feet long walkway down either side of the house. The backyard was very small as well. It consisted of a lawn table with two plastic chairs and a grill. The patio was made of tile, like the kitchen. The fence that stretched around the whole house was wooden and it would be easy for a perp, if there was one, to jump it.  
  
He slowly made his way all the way around the house and back into the front yard, where Sara was still talking to the parents of the victim. Unfortunately, he hadn't found anything out of place or unusual. No broken vases or planets bent over. No sign of a struggle anywhere. Nothing to show that someone had gotten into the house to kill the little girl.  
  
Nick decided that there wasn't much he could do outside. The most he could do was take prints from the kitchen door from the outside, which opened out into the little patio. He didn't expect to find anything, but if definitely wouldn't be bad if he did. He would take anything right now, even a partial fingerprint.  
  
Nick made his way back around the house. As he went down the left side of the house, he studied everything very carefully. He only saw two windows on the whole first floor that faced his way and there were three on the second floor, one much smaller than the other two. Nick suspected that the smaller window belonged to a bathroom.  
  
Nick even studied the grass. It was green and lush, but cut very short. It appeared that every blade was the exact same length. He was surprised that the house didn't have a huge garden, but it didn't, at least not that he had discovered yet. He glanced from the edge of the fence to the edge of the house. He couldn't spot a single weed. 'Maybe I'll have these people come work on my yard,' he thought while he made his way, finally, into the backyard.  
  
The kitchen door was positioned right on the left of the back wall. He only had to take a few steps from the side of the house to reach the door. He figured the patio furniture was near the kitchen so when they grilled food, it was easy to fix the food and then eat.  
  
Nick pulled out a rectangle piece that appeared to be made out of cardboard. He pulled back the plastic film covering and placed the sticky part against the door handle. Being careful not to shake or shift the paper, he ran he glove over the back of the paper to help the surface pick up any print. Once he was sure he was done, he lifted the sticky part off the door handle and slowly placed the film back over the sticky end, preserving the possible fingerprint until he could get it to Greg Sanders, who worked in the DNA lab.  
  
Nick then tested the kitchen door and found it unlocked. He would have to ask if it had been like that when the police had arrived on the scene, or if they had unlocked it themselves. The body had finally been moved off the floor. Pulling the camera out of the case on his shoulder, Nick started snapping pictures off of where the body had been laying.  
  
Not long after he was done photographing, Nick spotted a sticky substance on the floor, where the body had been laying. Kneeling down, Nick tried to get a better look. Even with the closer range, he couldn't tell anything about it and had no clue to what it was. So Nick pulled out a plastic tube. He popped the top back and pushed a cotton swab out of the bottom. He rolled the swab around in the substance and then pulled the cotton swab back in, snapping the lid closed. Greg was going to have one hell of a night going through all of the evidence.  
  
Nick continued around the kitchen. He didn't find anything out of the ordinary on the counters or on the appliances. He was about to consider the room done when he discovered something shinning on the floor. Nick quickly leaned closer and snapped a picture before pulling out his tweezers and picking it up. He quickly found out that it was a small shard of glass. 'This case is finally getting places.'  
  
Sara wanted to rip the mother's head out. She really did. She legs hurt like hell from standing up for such a long period of time without moving. And the parents weren't the most helpful people of all time. All she had managed to figure out in the past twenty minutes was their names, Fred and Marge McAllister and where they had been, a dinner party at Fred's boss's house. She hadn't even managed to get the boss's name yet. Neither one of them wanted to say much, and they kept shooting odd looks at Sara that were getting on her nerves.  
  
"What is your boss's name?" Sara asked Fred once again. He looked from Sara to Brass and then finally back to Sara. "Why do you want to know? He couldn't have possibly killed our daughter. We were with him all night," he answered nervously. His wife wouldn't even talk.  
  
"We don't think that he killed your daughter," Sara replied, although she was stretching the truth just a little. At the current stage of the investigation, everyone was a suspect. "We just want to talk to him and try to confirm your alibi to make sure that you are innocent."  
  
"You think we could have killed a little girl?" Marge asked, shocked out of her mind. "Our own daughter, for that matter! What kind of sick people are you? I don't want you at my house anymore. Can't you just go away?"  
  
"We are trying to bring your daughter's killer to justice and we can't do that until we are able to process the whole crime scene and get some evidence. We don't suspect that you killed your daughter, Mrs. McAllister, but we have to prove you innocent before we can find who is guilty."  
  
Before Mrs. McAllister had a chance to reply, Nick came walking broadly out of the front door. He walked over to the conversation party and smiled sweetly at Sara. "Warrick is just finishing up. Are you ready to head back to the lab? I found a few things that might help with the case," he told her. Sara nodded, finding this as her excuse to get away from the crazy couple. "You don't mind finishing up with Marge and Fred, do you?" she asked Brass. Then, before waiting for a reply, she practically dragged Nick away from them and to the Tahoe that the lab owned.  
  
"Thank God," Sara groaned, melting into the passenger's seat. "I thought I was going to be stuck with them all night."  
  
Nick just grinned mysteriously. "While we're at the lab, Brass and Warrick are going to start questioning the neighbors, starting with the lady who called in the police. I think Warrick said that they are going to bring her to the lab for questioning."  
  
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Not much of a surprise ending here, but a good place to stop for a while. I'll update with the next chapter as soon as I get a chance. And be expecting a cliffhanger at the end of the next chapter, because I like those.  
  
This time, I guarantee that I am going to post and/or e-mail all members of my fan-site with a sneak preview of the third chapter. If you haven't signed up at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/antidarthani yet, go ahead and be one of the first to read it! 


	3. Chapter Three

From Fever To Death  
  
By: Anti Darth Ani  
  
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Try to listen to Justin Guarini while reading this chapter. It really adds something to it. Or at least I think it does. Maybe I'm just crazy. Another new chapter, just for all my readers and reviewers. Without you, I'm just a weirdo writing stuff to myself. J  
  
Synopsis:  
  
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.  
  
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance  
  
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.  
  
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CHAPTER THREE  
  
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"So what do you have for me tonight?" Spiky haired Greg Sanders asked, looking over the top of his celebrity gossip magazine. Nick sat down on the edge of the long, metal table. He set the tube with the cotton swab, the plastic bag with the small piece of glass, and the fingerprint paper on the table in front of the young DNA personnel. "It's you're lucky day, Greg-o," Nick assured him. "Now, how soon are you going to be able to get all these processed for me?" Nick asked.  
  
"Well, believe it or not, I'm actually finally caught up. And with Catherine and Grissom not on a case, you'll on the front burner. Actually," he paused, thinking, "You'll be on the only burner. How often is that?"  
  
"Rare. Very rare," Nick told him, pushing the evidence closer. "Work before pleasure while you're in the lab, Sanders. You'd better get started. I want at least the substance on the swab by the time I get back from watching Warrick and Brass interview who may be our only witness."  
  
Without waiting for a response from Greg, Nick pushed his way through the double glass doors. He made his way down the sterile white hallway to the interrogation rooms. Sara was already looking in on a room where Nick saw Detective Brass, Warrick, and a lady would could have been well into her sixties. Nick walked up and stood next to Sara. They were looking through a tinted window that appeared to be a mirror on the other side of it. "You're just in time," Sara told him. "They're just about to start with her. They already got her name, but like our wonderful McAllisters, she isn't a big talker."  
  
Nick didn't say a single word, but he did nod his head to let Sara know that he had heard her. He didn't want to seem rude. Crossing his arms across his chest, Nick stared hard at the old woman, trying to pick up a sense on what type of woman she was. Her hair was gray with aged and her skin sagged under her eyes. Her forehead was creased. She didn't seem like the best person for a witness. Of course, they didn't even know if she knew anything in the first place.  
  
Sara rested a hand on his shoulder softly. Nick was startled by the contact. He had totally forgotten that she was even in the room with him. "Are you okay?" Sara asked him, glancing at him sideways before pulling her hand back. Nick nodded and then they both became quite when Brass started to talk again. Warrick had sat down across the table from the lady, but Brass remained standing.  
  
"Mrs. Johnson, how well do you know Emily McAllister and her parents?" Warrick asked calmly. He believed by his own gut that the old woman was harmless. But a crime was a crime and it wasn't as if senior citizens were incapable of killing. It was far from the truth.  
  
Mrs. Johnson looked at him nervously. Her voice trembled while she talked, "Emily is, or was, such a dear. She always helped me in my garden on the weekends. I always made her chocolate chip cookies when she came over. I never really talked to her parents too much. I used to, but since Fred got the promotion and Marge got a second job, I haven't seen much of either of them. Recently, they have been calling more frequently to see if I could check up on Emily every once in a while. I always offer to her parents that she could come over to my house, but they never liked that idea. I still can't believe anything bad would happen to such a sweet, little girl." she wrung her fingers nervously. Her hand went and clutched her silver cross around her neck, "God had better plans for her."  
  
Brass rested a hand on the metal table, "Do you think that her parents ever abused her or mistreated her?" he asked seriously.  
  
Mrs. Johnson studied her hands. "I don't think they ever physically abused her. But they were never home and I could tell that she was almost always lonely. Ever time she came over to help in my garden, she would tell me how much she loved visiting me. I truly believe that she just needed to be around people more often. She always commented on how much she loved school and her friends."  
  
Warrick glanced at the mirror. Nick and Sara both noticed this. They were uneasy with the situation. They, like Warrick, didn't believe that the seemingly sweet, old lady would have hurt Emily. She almost sounded like Emily's guardian angel. Of course, if this was true, then they were back to the parents as being suspects. They hadn't been able to get in touch with the boss yet. They had left a few messages with his secretary, but he hadn't called back yet.  
  
"Can you walk us through what happened earlier tonight, before you called 911 to report Emily's death?" Brass asked patiently. Warrick could tell Brass wanted to crack this lady soon if there was anything to crack. Warrick decided to keep his mouth shut.  
  
Mrs. Johnson nodded slowly, her head moving with effort. "Marge and Fred called me at the last moment, as always. They said they had a dinner party to attend. They told me that Emily had planned on spending the night at a friend's house, but she hadn't been feeling well, so they made her stay home. I told them that of course I would check in on Emily for them. I always check up on her every half an hour. I knock on the front door and she usually comes and answers the door and assures me that she is ok.  
  
"On the rare occasion that she doesn't open the door, like if she's in the shower or on the phone, I have a spare key to their house. I go in through the living room and find her, make sure she is okay, and then lock up after myself. Tonight, she answered the door the first four times I checked up on her. The fifth time, I figured she might have gone to bed early, so I let myself in and went up to her room. I didn't see her, so I checked the entire house. I found her on the kitchen floor. She looked as if she had passed out. I panicked and tried to wake her up, but she didn't stir.  
  
"So I called 911 and told them it was an emergency. After I hung up, I prayed for her to join God and then I remembered that I had left the stove on. I went home to turn it off. By the time I had that done, I heard the ambulances and I didn't think I was needed. I would have just been in the way."  
  
"Sara?" Nick asked when he glanced over at her once Mrs. Johnson had finished speaking. Sara had unconscientiously pressed one hand up against the glass. She stared into the room without even blinking. After a minute, she hadn't answered him. Nick took a step toward her and reached out to pull her arm away. As soon as his hand touched the skin on her arm, Sara jolted, her hand going to her heart. "God, Nick. You scared the crap out of me!" she gasped, but she was actually smiling. "I totally spaced out for a minute."  
  
"Yeah, you did. Are you okay, Sara? You've seemed a little off ever since we started this case," Nick observed, concerned.  
  
"I'm just a little tired," Sara lied. "I didn't get much sleep last night," she told him, turning her attention back to the glass, only to discover that Warrick had stood up and was holding the door open for Mrs. Johnson. Brass stayed in the room for a few more moments before following out after Warrick.  
  
"So what do you guys think about our Christian, old Mrs. Johnson?" Warrick asked, walking up to Nick and Sara.  
  
"I don't think she's ever hurt a fly in her life. It does seem odd that she would leave her house with the stove on in the first place, but she's odd and elderly people often forget about things like that," Nick enlightened Warrick. "Did you get any fingerprints off the front door handle?" he asked Warrick.  
  
Warrick nodded, "Now what kind of CSI would I be if I didn't even lift fingerprints off the main entrances and exits. What do you think, Sara?"  
  
Sara shrugged at Warrick, "I'm undecided. She may be old, but that doesn't mean she's innocent. I've seen a lot of these crimes before. I suggest we let the evidence do the talking."  
  
Warrick turned to Nick, "Doesn't that sound familiar? I thought we'd gotten rid of that kind of talk while Grissom was gone." He wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulder. "You're not turning on us, are you?" he kidding. Sara sighed and shook her head, but she couldn't help smiling. 


	4. Chapter Four

From Fever To Death  
  
By: Anti Darth Ani  
  
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  
  
Author's Note:  
  
I'm already on chapter four!! I'm on a role. I must admit, these are the shortest chapters on a fan-fic I've written so far. Of course, this is going to be only my third finished fan-fic, and I've had an account on fanfiction.net for over two years, so that's pretty sad. Please make sure you tell me what you think about my characters. Do you think that they are portrayed like they are on the television show, or it that an area I need to work on?  
  
Synopsis:  
  
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.  
  
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance  
  
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.  
  
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CHAPTER FOUR  
  
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"Greg-o, what do you have for me?" Nick asked, pushing the door open and poking his head in. Greg, who was picking up a piece of paper of the printer, turned his head to face Nick. "Oh, I was just going to go find you. I guess you saved me the trip. I've got all your results."  
  
Nick stepped into the warm lab. "All of them?" he asked, a little surprised.  
  
"I told you your case is the only one right now, so I used my special little powers, and here you go," he told Nick, handing him a few papers. Before he even had a chance to read through them, Greg started to explain what was on the papers. "Let's start with the glass piece. There wasn't anything special about it. Simple sand melting at hot temperatures to create our wonderful glass. What is interesting is that I found traces of the substance you also gave me on it. Now, that substance. Care to guess what it?" Greg asked, sitting down at his chair. He spun around in it once and came to face Nick again.  
  
"Not really. Crime investigation isn't a guessing name, Sanders. Why don't you just tell me?" Nick wasn't in the mood to be dealing with little guessing games. He had a crime scene he needed to comb over and people to interview. "What is it?"  
  
"Mercury," Greg simply stated. "Very lethal, as you know. All someone had to do was force the victim drink it and Bam! She's dead."  
  
"Okay, good. It's a start. What can you tell me about the fingerprint I got off the kitchen door? Did you get any hits on it?" Nick asked.  
  
Greg smiled like he was a genius. "Of course I did. But that news isn't so great as the rest. It matches the mother. I'm not sure if that helps any or not."  
  
Nick was already heading to the door, "Thanks, Greg. Don't go anywhere, I'm sure I've have something else for you soon," he told Greg.  
  
Greg rolled his eyes, "Oh goody," he muttered, propping his legs up on the desk and picking up his magazine again. While Nick was gone, he was going to enjoy himself.  
  
Sara woke with a start. Her brown hair was stinking to her forehead with sweat. How long had she slept? It shouldn't have been very long. Her whole body was screaming for sleep, but Sara didn't want to. Not after what she had just dreamed about. She needed to get back to the crime scene and see if she could dig up any new evidence. She wanted this case solved as soon as possible. She wouldn't have even gone home to her apartment if both Nick and Warrick hadn't demanded it.  
  
Sara glanced over at her clock. It was already two in the morning. She had slept for two and a half hours. So she had slept for a while. Sara pushed her hair back off of her forehead. Why had she had the dream again? She couldn't make herself believe that she still wasn't over what had happened. She had been a child and that had occurred years ago. Sara had thought she had buried that long ago. But apparently, she hadn't. She wouldn't be able to handle this case if she didn't find a way to get over the event.  
  
Trying to forget all about the dream, Sara quickly showered and changed. She'd be fine after a cup of coffee, she told herself. She took deep breaths all the way to the McAllister home. The Tahoe was already in the driveway, its black paint blending it in to the dark colors of the night. Sara slid into the driveway next to it with ease. She put the SUV into park and pulled the keys out, closing the door and after she got her field kit out of the back of her car, she walked up to the front door, which was wide open.  
  
Sara walked in as if she had been to the house many times before and it was routine. But it wasn't, and this wasn't just any case. This was the case of the death of a little girl because her parents had neglected her and left her home alone, which Sara believed was actually illegal in Las Vegas, although she couldn't be sure. Warrick looked up from the TV, which he was dusting, "Glad to see you back with us. Did you get any sleep?" he asked her.  
  
Sara smiled, "Enough," she assured him. She looked around the room. It seemed so homily and cheerful, except for the feeling left by having a dead body in the kitchen. Sara walked into the kitchen, where Nick was standing, looking around. When he spotted her, he smiled, "Hey. Are you feeling any better?" he asked her.  
  
Sara sighed. "I wasn't feeling bad in the first place. But I do feel well rested. Have you guys found anything else?" she asked him. Nick shook his head. "I don't know about this case, Sara. Something feels wrong, you know? Like we've looked over something. I just can't put my finger on it."  
  
"Don't worry, we'll figure this out. We are, after all, the second best crime lab in the country. That counts for something, right?" she asked.  
  
Nick nodded, "But we can't solve all of them," he reminded her.  
  
Sara's jaw set tightly, "Well, we're going to solve this one. I won't rest until we have the perp behind bars."  
  
"So, I found out that the mystery substance, mercury, was found on the piece of glass I found over there," he said, pointing to a spot on the kitchen floor. "The shard of glass, however, was too small to get any type of fingerprint off of. And the fingerprint I lifted off of the kitchen door handle matched the mother, which doesn't help much." Sara nodded, trying to absorb all the information. Did this mean that they were back to square one? Would they have to try to press Mrs. Johnson for more information? She was the only lead on the case currently and Sara needed the case to be solved.  
  
Warrick walked into the kitchen, "Brass is here. He arrived with the parents. I've already cleared the living room. Not one piece of evidence in the whole room, so Brass is going to at least let them into that room. He wants us all to be together when he starts interrogating them. Are you guys ready?" he asked.  
  
Sara and Nick both nodded and then they followed Warrick into the living room. Marge and Fred McAllister were sitting on the couch. Mr. McAllister held his wife's hand in his, squeezing it for reassurance. They weren't comfortable at all and they still had a problem accepting that their only child, Emily, was dead.  
  
"I know this is hard on you," Nick told the couple. "But we need to ask you a few questions about when Emily died."  
  
Marge looked from Nick to her husband, who nodded slowly. "We'll answer your questions. We just want you to find who would do this to a little girl."  
  
Brass started asking them to explain about the events that led to the dinner party. Like most people, they had no idea what this had to do with the case. Fred looked at Brass suspiciously, but he finally started explaining. He declared that they had changed into their dinner clothes, Fred a suit and Marge a sleek dress. Then they discovered that Emily wasn't feeling well and called Mrs. Johnson, asking her to check in on Emily. Then they called Emily's friend's house and told the parents that Emily would have to spend the night another night.  
  
"Why wasn't she feeling well?" Warrick questioned, picking up right where Brass had left off. "What was bothering her?"  
  
Marge smiled, a tear running down her cheek. "She complained that her stomach hurt. Fred joked that it was my meatloaf that Emily had for lunch. So I gave her some children's Motrin and told her to stay in bed. She also had a slight fever, but it wasn't anything serious and she insisted that she didn't have a fever. She's a very stubborn girl sometimes." Marge let a few more tears fall. "I can't believe this could happen. If Mrs. Johnson had just checked up on Emily a little more often, this would have never happened."  
  
Sara tried her best to keep her composer. She was furious that Mrs. McAllister was trying to blame Mrs. Johnson for her daughter's death. They hadn't found any evidence to prove this. It was their own faults for leaving their daughter home alone.  
  
"Marge, Mrs. Johnson loved Emily. She wouldn't want anything to happen to her," Fred told her. "You're just a little upset."  
  
"A little upset?" Marge asked, clearly taken back. "I'm far past a little upset, Fred! Our daughter is dead. Emily is dead. And I bet you anything that Mrs. Johnson killed her! Just because the old hag never had any children of her own. I bet she was just jealous of us and decided to take away our daughter because she never had a daughter of her own!"  
  
"What the hell are you thinking?" Sara snapped, finally losing it. "It's not Mrs. Johnson's fault! If you had just gotten Emily a babysitter like good parents would have, none of this would have happened!"  
  
"Are you telling me, in my own house, that I wasn't a good mother to my only daughter? It that what you are implying?" Marge asked, furious.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm telling you!" Sara snapped. "A true mother would never have left her daughter home alone, sick or not." A picture of Sara's own mother flashed through her head. She forced it away. She wouldn't bring her mother into this.  
  
"Sara," Nick started, but Marge interrupted. "I loved my daughter! Emily was my whole life! I cannot except you coming into my own house and telling me that I didn't do enough to ensure my own daughter's safety! I do not need to be treated as if I am a criminal!"  
  
"You left her home alone! She is only a ten-year-old little girl! She doesn't know how to be careful. She would open the door for a stranger. You set her up to die!" Sara accused. Fred's face was turning red like he was about to brust and Marge was on the verge of tears. Nick stepped toward Sara and quickly pulled on her elbow. Brass and Warrick were staring at Sara in amazement.  
  
"I am not the reason my daughter is dead! If you were good detectives, you would be investigating Mrs. Johnson instead of rubbing my name through dirt in my own house," Marge glared at Sara.  
  
"If you had just seen the situation through in your own eyes. If you had just gotten her a babysitter," Sara started, but Nick dragged her out the front door and slammed the door shut. Sara was surprised that he had pulled her out.  
  
"What the hell are you thinking!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down so the McAllisters wouldn't be able to hear him. "Just tell me what you could possibly be thinking, running off like that to the family of a victim, Sara! God, you know better than that."  
  
Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes as a picture of her own mother popped into her brain. Sara tried to keep her cool, taking deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating. She ran her hand over the top of her hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail. Her hands were starting to shake and her lower lip was starting to quiver. 'Don't fall apart,' she warned herself. 'This isn't the place or the time for this problem.'  
  
"Sara, come on. You know if Grissom had heard that outburst in there, he would have wrung your neck twice. He might have even suspended you," Nick told her. A tear or two started to fall down her face, running a path down her cheeks. "I can't handle this case," she whispered. "It hits right at home."  
  
"Then why didn't you ask Warrick to take you off the case? You know a CSI is never supposed to stay on a case if it's personal or emotional. You know that," he stressed the last sentence.  
  
Sara nodded and quickly wiped away the few tears on her face that hadn't already fallen. "I just need a second to recollect myself. I'll be fine after that, I promise." She managed a weak smiled that didn't convince Nick one bit. But he decided to let it slide for the time being.  
  
"Well, I guess you'd better be praying to a higher power that Grissom and Catherine aren't here right now. And you'd better pray that they don't find about this from anyone."  
  
Sara gave Nick a scary look. "Well you're not going to tell them, are you?" she asked, a hint of concern raising in her voice.  
  
"Not unless they ask if you broke down and started yelling at the parents of a victim, then no, I'm not going to tell them. But you're treading thin ice here, Sara. You might want to think before you speak until this case is over."  
  
Sara nodded. She quickly smoothed her hair over before walking back into the house. 


	5. Chapter Five

From Fever To Death  
  
By: Anti Darth Ani  
  
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Hello again, everyone! Glad to see that you are still reading this fan-fic of mine. We're getting closer to solving this sucker, since there hasn't been much at all to help solve the case. Just keep reading on, and everything will be revealed. There is only going to be one more chapter after this one. If you want a sneak preview of the final chapter, go to my author's page and click the homepage link to get to my fan-site. I'm thankful for those of you who have already registered and are getting my sneak previews. It actually means a lot to me, believe it or not.  
  
I'm already planning on doing another fan-fic that follows this story line. It will be a totally different case, of course, but you'll understand what I mean when you read on.  
  
Well, enough with this nonsense of mine. I just KNOW that everyone is really excited and wants to continue. So let's get started! Thanks to all my reviewers and readers!  
  
Synopsis:  
  
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.  
  
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance  
  
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.  
  
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CHAPTER FIVE  
  
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Sara slammed her locker door shut, the sound reverberating off the walls to create a larger impact. "I don't understand how we can't find anything else on this case!" she yelled. She slammed her fist against the locker, the impact of her hand against the metal hurting more than she would admit to herself. Wincing at the sudden pain, Sara pulled her arm back and let it hang by her side. She slumped down on the wooden bench in the middle of the two rows of lockers. She let out a frustrated sighed and ran her hand through her hair.  
  
Sara suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. Startled out of her mind, Sara jumped to her feet, releasing a small shriek in surprise. She spun around and faced Nick, who looked taken back. "I'm sorry…" he started.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Nick!" Sara shouted, placing her hand on her chest where her heart should be. "You scared the crap out of me!"  
  
Nick couldn't help but flash her one of his adorable smiles. "Sorry. I just heard you out in the hall and wanted to make sure you were okay."  
  
Sara shook her head and picked up her bag, which she had dropped to the floor earlier when she had taken it out of her locker. "I think I just need to go home and cool off a little." Nick nodded as he twirled the combination on his lock. He opened the locker and pulled out his bag, putting his Kevlar vest inside. "This job really gets to me sometimes," Sara admitted.  
  
"I know how that is," Nick confessed, closing his locker and turning to face Sara. "Walk you to your car?" he offered.  
  
Sara smiled and slung her bag over her shoulder, "Sure," she answered. Nick held open the door for her as she walked into the hall of the crime lab. The late night shift was over and the lab was almost empty, except for a few late workers who were scattered around the facility. Sara and Nick didn't run into anyone as they made their way out into the cool Las Vegas night.  
  
Sara pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. Nick fell in step next to her and followed her stride as she led him to her car. "It's actually not that bad out tonight," Sara said softly, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets.  
  
Nick nodded his head in silent agreement. They reached a red Camry. Sara pulled out her keys and tried to put the key into the door lock. However, her hand was shaking and Sara couldn't seem to get the damn key to go in. Nick softly took the key from her hand and put the key in, turning it to the right and then he pulled the key back out and held the door open for Sara.  
  
Sara tried to smile at him. "Thanks," she muttered softly under her breath. Walking behind him, Sara climbed into the driver's seat and put her bag on the passenger's seat. She glanced up at Nick, who was still standing with the door open. She raised her eyebrows at him and Nick chuckled. "Maybe you should go ahead and start the car up so I know you can get your key in."  
  
Sara frowned at Nick, but nevertheless, she put her keys into the ignition and started the car up. She turned to face him again. "Satisfied?" he asked.  
  
"Extremely," he replied. "Good night," he added right before he closed the car door and walked off down the lot to his car.  
  
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A six-year-old Sara Sidle looked up from her coloring book to her mother, who was running around the house busily, trying to collect all her things so she could leave. She was already running late as it was. "Mommy, when are you going to be home?" she asked, holding a green crayon in her hand.  
  
Her mother let out a heavy sigh, "I don't know, Sara. I told you Mommy needs to be left alone right now. She has a business meeting she's late for," she told her daughter, quickly putting her hair into a sloppy bun.  
  
Sara swung her legs back and front. They weren't long enough yet to touch the ground when she sat in her car. She had been coloring a picture of a Dalmatian dog on a fire truck. The dog was green with purple spots and the fire truck was colored a light orange color. Sara dropped the crayon onto the counter and held up the picture. "Do you like my painting, Mommy? Don't you think it's pretty? I mades it for you." Sara looked over the top of her picture. Her mother wasn't even paying attention to her. Instead, she was applying her makeup heavily. "Mommy's running late, darling. I'll have to look at it later."  
  
Little Sara carefully crawled out of the chair and walked into the kitchen. She found one of her favorite magnets and went to hang the picture, but the glass magnet slipped out of her hand and crashed to the floor. Her mother came running into the room. "God damn it, Sara!" her mother yelled. Tears filled little Sara's eyes while her mother cleaned up the mess and threw the pieces of glass into the trash. "Can't you do anything right?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mommy," she cried, but just as she did, the doorbell rang. Her mother hurried to the front door and opened it. Sara followed her slowly and saw her mother exchanged greetings with a man Sara had met a few times. "Hi, George," Sara called to her mother's friend.  
  
Both her mother and George looked at her. Her mother tried to smile sweetly. "George and I are going to be late for… work," her mother told her. "I'll be home later, okay sweetie?"  
  
Sara shook her head, "I don't want you to go to work tonight, Mommy. It gets too dark before you get home. I don't like the dark," Sara complained.  
  
Her mother laughed dryly. "I'll be home later, sweetie. George and I have to go. We're late already." Without another word, she left. Sara heard her mother lock the door from outside.  
  
Sara made her way to the couch. Her mother had set the picture on the coffee table. Angrily, Sara snatched it up and tore it into many small pieces while she cried. Then she curled up on the couch. "I want my Mommy," she cried over and over until she feel asleep.  
  
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Sara Sidle woke up with a start. Tears were running down her face. She sat up and hugged her oversized pillow to her chest. She let the tears fall. She couldn't even remember the last time she had really let herself cry. It had been years. She had almost broke down when Nick had pulled her out of the McAllister house earlier. Then she had almost fallen apart again in the locker room.  
  
The phone rang, making Sara jump. She caught her breath before she reached for the phone. "Hello?" she asked.  
  
"Sara, I wasn't sure if you were there or not," an older voice replied. It was her landlady, Miss Walker. She was the nicest woman Sara had ever met.  
  
"Linda, why all you calling? I didn't miss my rent, did I?" she asked.  
  
Linda Walker laughed cheerfully on the other end. "Oh no, dear, you haven't done anything wrong. I do have some bad news, however. I'm afraid I'm going to be out of town starting tomorrow for a week. During that time, I've called professional painters to come and repaint every single apartment. I'm also having cable internet installed, because so many tenants have requested it. I tried getting in touch with you earlier, but with the hours you work, I haven't gotten in touch with you. I'm afraid that everyone is going to have to evacuate the buildings for a few days until they've finished painting. I'm sorry to have to be telling you this right now, and I know it's short notice. Will you be able to find a place to stay?"  
  
Sara was speechless. Where the hell was she supposed to live for a few days while they painted? She didn't have any close friends out of work. At worst case, she guessed she could ask someone at work to house her for a few days. The only problem was that Catherine was out of town with her daughter, Lindsey, on vacation. Sara didn't know if she would be comfortable staying at one of the guys' houses. She would just have to figure it out. "Of course I'll be able to find somewhere to stay for a few days," Sara assured her. "You just enjoy yourself while you're away."  
  
Linda thanked Sara, "I'm going to visit my son up in Canada. His wife just had their first baby. It's my first grandchild."  
  
Sara smiled, "Congratulations," she told Miss Walker. Shortly after, she hung up. Sara sank back into her sheets and groaned.  
  
Sara walked into the crime lab around eleven. The night was pitch black and the light from the ceiling almost blinded Sara when she walked in. She yawned and made her way into the building, looking for any of her co-workers. The first person she saw was Archie, who worked the technology side of the crime lab for the night shift. Sara poked her head into his room, where he was studying a security video on a large television. "Hey, Archie. Have you seen Warrick or Nick?" she asked him.  
  
Archie looked up from the TV. "Warrick went around looking for you and Nick, but that was a while ago and I didn't see which way he went. You just missed Nick. He was looking for you. He said it was important. He went towards the break room."  
  
"Thanks, Archie," she told him, heading down the hall to the break room. When she opened the door, she saw him standing by the coffee machine. When he heard the door open, he smiled at her, "Hey. We didn't know if you were playing hooky today or what."  
  
Sara smiled, "Nope. Just got a late start. And I'm not even that late. You and Warrick were just early today." Nick grinned and pull out another Styrofoam cup for Sara. He poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Sara, who smiled and thanked him.  
  
Hesitating, Sara cleared her throat. "Could I ask you a huge favor?" she asked, getting straight to the point. She only had until tonight to find a place to crash at.  
  
Nick eyes her suspiciously. "What?"  
  
"Well, my landlord is going to be out of time, so she decided that it would be a good time to have painters come. They are going to paint the whole place over, so all the tenants have to move out for a few days. And I have no where to stay…"  
  
Nick took another sip of coffee. "So you want to crash at my place?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Please?" she begged. "It's only for a few days and I don't mind sleeping on a couch."  
  
Nick shrugged, "That's fine. When will you be coming?" he asked.  
  
Sara tried to smile sweetly, "Tonight at the latest."  
  
Nick stared at Sara for a minute and then laughed, "That's fine."  
  
Sara sighed with relief, "Oh, thanks, Nick. You have no idea what this means to me."  
  
"Hey guys," Warrick called, making his way into the room. I think I may have just solved the case. Are you interested in hearing me out?"  
  
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So what is Warrick going to tell Sara and Nick? Well, I don't know. I guess you'll just have to wait until the next chapter's up! 


	6. Chapter Six

From Fever To Death  
  
By: Anti Darth Ani  
  
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Can you believe it is already the end? I don't want it to be!!! That's why I'm already working on the next story, which is called Breaking Point. I don't really think it should be called a sequel, because it is about a different case. However, the characters will act like they do and feel like they do in the next fan-fic like they do at the end of this chapter. If you are confused, just go on and read the rest of this fan-fic. At the end, I'll add something to help you understand.  
  
For the latest scoop on the next installment of CSI fan-fics, visit my fan-site. I'll have something posted about it there, which will give you a synopsis and a sneak preview of the first chapter.  
  
As always, I would love to thank all of my wonderful readers and reviewers. This chapter is here for you guys! So enough with this, read on and enjoy!  
  
Synopsis:  
  
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.  
  
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance  
  
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.  
  
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CHAPTER SIX  
  
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"You think you solved the case?" Sara asked, astonished. Was that even possible? They had little to no evidence at all and here was Warrick, telling them that he might have solved it. God, she hoped so.  
  
"Marge kept saying that Emily was sick, right? She had a slight fever, right?" Warrick asked.  
  
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?" Nick asked, finishing off his coffee cup.  
  
"Just hear me out," Warrick insisted. "I called up Marge McAllister to ask her a few questions. The main one would solve the case, if I'm correct." He paused for a moment to looked at Nick and Sara. "I casually asked her how she had known that Emily had had a fever. She told me that she had taken Emily's temperature and then reminded Emily to take her own temperature every hour. She had told her daughter if her fever got worse, to call them on the cell phone at the party."  
  
"I still don't get it," Sara confessed.  
  
Nick snapped his fingers, "The mercury and glass."  
  
Warrick nodded and smiled, "Yes. She was taking her temperature with a glass thermometer and it somehow it managed to break. Mercury, what they put in the thermometer, is highly poisonous. So she went from having a fever to being stone cold."  
  
Sara's hands started to shake again. She accidentally dropped her coffee cup on the floor. Nick and Warrick looked at her, "Are you alright?" they asked her.  
  
Sara pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. Her head was killing her and she was dizzy. "I'm fine," she lied. "I think we should go tell the McAllisters and Mrs. Johnson."  
  
Warrick nodded, "I was just going to do that. You guys are coming, right?" he asked them. They both nodded. Nick glanced at Sara, "Just give us one minute," Nick asked. "We'll be out it just a minute."  
  
Warrick agreed and headed out to the Tahoe. Nick waited for the door to close all the way before he turned to face Sara. "I don't know how you are going to feel about me saying this, but I think it would be better if you didn't go with us to tell the McAllisters."  
  
Sara sighed, "Nick," she started to protest.  
  
"Oh, come on. I know you realize it to. It's too personal for you to handle. And I don't think Marge McAllister has taking a liking to you at all."  
  
Sara laughed softly and shook her head, "I think you might be right."  
  
Nick nodded and grinned, "You might want to go get all the stuff you're going to need before they start to paint your apartment over. Do you need my address?" he asked her.  
  
Sara grinned, "That might be useful."  
  
Sara pulled into a brick driveway. Nick's SUV was in the driveway. The sun hadn't completely disappeared under the horizon yet. The sky was painted with oranges and dark pinks. Sara even noticed a slight purple here and there. She loved dusk more than another other time of the day. She locked her car door and walked up under the covering. She rang the doorbell on the wall.  
  
It was a minute or two before Sara even heard anything. Then she heard the sound of a deadbolt being unlocked. Surprisingly, Sara felt nervous. Her heart was beating madly in her chest. She forced herself to try to relax. Being nervous out of her mind wasn't going to help matters any, she realized.  
  
Nick finally managed to get the door open. He smiled and greeted her cheerfully. Sara didn't even know why she was she was so worked up. "Sara?" Nick asked softly when she didn't move. He was a little confused when she just stood there on his porch while he held the door open for her.  
  
Sara finally seemed to hear him calling her name. She looked at him a little startled. As if remembering what she was doing at his house, Sara smiled. "Right," she said, more to herself than to Nick. She walked past him into the hallway. Nick closed the door and locked it before turning to face Sara. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked her. Sara nodded, but Nick looked at her, unsure. "I'm fine," she insisted.  
  
Nick shrugged and led the way down the hall into the living room. Sara looked around, impressed. "Nice place you have here," she commented. Nick nodded and went into the kitchen, which looked over into the living room. Sara slowly slid her jacket off of her shoulders and placed it on the edge of the couch. "Thanks so much for letting me crash here," Sara yelled in the general direction of the kitchen. Although she loved the place, she was having second thoughts about being at Nick's.  
  
"It's fine," Nick responded, entering the living room with a glass of water and Advil pills. He handed the pills to Sara and then set the glass down on a coaster on the glass end table.  
  
Sara smiled, "Well aren't we the little neat freak?" she teased, popping the Advil into her mouth and picking up the glass, drinking all the water. She swallowed the pills quickly and started to put the glass back down on the coaster, but Nick gently took the glass and went to put it in the sink.  
  
'Get a grip!' Sara screamed to herself. She was nervous as hell and being light-headed from the blood draining from her head wasn't going to help matters any.  
  
"You look like you need some rest," Nick told her, coming back into the room. "You're really pale." Sara nodded slowly, the movement hurting a little. "Go ahead and sit down and I'll go get you some sheets and pillows. The couch pulls out, by the way." Sara smiled in a way of thanks as Nick walked off. She sank into his couch. What was she, a twelve year old with a crush or something? Sara rubbed her eyes and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes. Man, was she tired.  
  
Nick came back in less than two minutes. Sara slowly opened her eyes and then stood up. She took the sheets and pillows from Nick while he pushed the coffee table to the side of the room. He took off the cushions and then pulled the bed out. Sara's hands started shaking again and she glanced over to Nick, to see if he noticed. Nick turned to face her and smiled. He took the sheets from her arms and made the bed in a matter of seconds. He then took the pillows, leaving Sara empty handed. Before she had a chance to hide her hands, Nick noticed them. He set the pillows on the side of the mattress. "You're not fine. What's going on?"  
  
Sara shrugged, "I'm sure it's nothing. It comes and goes and it never lasts too long. It'll be gone by tomorrow, I'm sure."  
  
Nick sighed, "If you say so." He didn't say anything for a moment. "If you need anything, my room is down the hall. It's the last door on the right."  
  
"Where's the bathroom?" Sara asked him.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. The only bathroom is through the bedroom. It's a house, it's not a mansion."  
  
Sara nodded. "Feel free to use it though, you won't wake me up," Nick added. "Anything else?" he asked her.  
  
Sara shook her head and Nick started to walk off. "Hey Nick?" Sara called after him.  
  
His head appeared on the side of the doorway. "Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks," she told him. Nick nodded and walked back down the hall.  
  
Sighing, Sara took off her shoes and pulled her hair tie out. She was glad she was wearing loose pants and a comfortable t-shirt. Moving the pillows to the top of the couch, Sara settled herself in and then turned off the light.  
  
Sara woke with a start. She shot up straight and panted for air. Her whole body shook. Then she realized that it was quite cold. Agitated that she had woken up, Sara slid her feet off the edge of the bed. She had no idea where a spare blanket was, if there even was one. 'Great' she said to herself. 'I'm going to freeze my ass off.'  
  
She flicked the table lamp on. It wasn't powerful and during the late night, Sara couldn't see much better. Sara flinched uncontrollably and started walking off down the hall towards the bedroom. Pausing in front of the door, Sara knocked on it softly before opening the door. She opened it just a crack and poked her head in. "Nick?" she hissed softly. She didn't want to wake him, but she wasn't going to get any sleep if she was cold all night.  
  
When she didn't get a reply, Sara opened the door all the way. She sure hoped that he didn't sleep in the nude. Sara used what little moonlight there was coming through the window to guide herself to the bed. She misjudged the space and stabbed her toe against the nightstand. "Aw shit," she muttered under her breath. Sara heard a movement from the bed, but no words were spoken.  
  
Sara walked to the side of the bed and saw the dark outline of Nick's body. She reached out and tapped his shoulder softly. She gasped in surprise when Nick woke awake suddenly, sitting up and grabbing her wrist painfully. "Sorry!" Sara shot out.  
  
"Sara?" Nick asked, confused.  
  
"I'm so sorry," she insisted when he released her wrist and turned on the night on the nightstand. "I was just wondering if you had any spare blankets. I didn't mean to scare you."  
  
Nick run a hand through his unruly hair, "What time is it?" he asked her sleepily. Sara shrugged, "I have no idea. But it's still pretty early."  
  
Nick tossed back the covers and stood up quickly. He went over to the large walk in closet and started looking around, turning on the overhead light. "Do you want a heavy or light blanket?" he asked Sara. Sara didn't even register the fact that he was saying something. She had fallen into a sitting position on the edge of his bed, dazed. She knew that he was muscular, but in only a pair of boxers, Sara almost passed out. He had a very fine six pack and she couldn't find a centimeter of fat on his whole body.  
  
"Sara?" he asked, turning his head over his shoulder to glance at her.  
  
"Huh?" she asked, snapping out of her trance. She could feel her cheeks burning with heat and she prayed that Nick couldn't tell she was blushing.  
  
"Do you want a heavy or light blanket?" he asked again.  
  
"Oh," Sara retorted. "Better go with a heavy one."  
  
Nick pulled one out and turned off the light, walking back over to the bed. He handed the blanket to Sara, who didn't move an inch. "Thanks," was all she could manage to say.  
  
"You're all red. Maybe you have a fever," Nick said, a note of concern in his voice.  
  
"I'm fine," Sara stumbled over the two words. She stood up quickly and headed straight for the door. "I'm sorry I woke you up."  
  
Nick shook his head. "It's no problem. Sleep well… and warm."  
  
Sara nodded and shut the door close behind her and hurried down the hallway. She was glad she had made it out of there in one piece. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen a man in so little clothes and it had been ages since she had been in a man's bedroom. Sara climbed under the sheet and spread the blanket out. Turning off the night, she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.  
  
Nick woke up as soon as the morning broke. He dressed in plain jeans and a baggy shirt. He made his bed and then went into the living room. Nick couldn't help but smile when he saw Sara asleep on the couch, covered in a plain sheet. The blanket he had been woken up for was pushed to the bottom of the mattress, most of it hanging off the end.  
  
Nick made a pot of coffee and then started making pancakes. It wasn't until the coffee pot started whistling that Sara groaned and rolled over. Nick shook his head and pulled out two coffee cups - one from him and one for his guest. Sara rolled over and faced Nick, who just happened to be looking right at her. "What time it is?" she asked him.  
  
"Around six," he answered.  
  
"In the morning?" she asked, shocked.  
  
"In the morning," he confirmed.  
  
"What the hell are you doing at six in the morning?" she asked.  
  
"I'm fixing coffee and pancakes," he replied, as if it was the most basic answer in the world.  
  
"At six in the morning?" Sara asked, sitting up on the couch.  
  
"Yes," Nick replied, pouring the coffee into the mugs. He walked into the living room and held out a coffee mug to Sara. Sara took it from him carefully, trying not to burn herself. Sara took one sip and then put it on the coaster. Nick went back to his pancakes.  
  
"How can you possibly function with as little of sleep as you got?" she asked. "Especially since I woke you up early, which was only about two hours ago."  
  
"I'm a light sleeper. I don't need much sleep to live."  
  
"Well I do," Sara muttered. She slipped back under the covers, after pulling the blanket back up, and pulled a pillow over her head.  
  
Nick shook his head and ate his pancakes in peace. He cleaned up after himself. He looked over to the couch. He wasn't sure he wanted to wake her up, but he was going for a run and he didn't want her to wake up to an empty house. Nick shook her shoulder softly. Sara groaned and pulled the pillow against her head tighter. Nick rolled his eyes and pulled on the pillow to get it away from her face so she would look at him. The pillow got only a few inches before Sara snatched it with her hands and pulled back on it.  
  
"Sara," Nick protested, yanking it away before she could get a firm grip. Sara sat up on the couch. "What is so important that you had to wake me up for?" she snapped.  
  
"I just wanted to inform you that I'm going to leave for about a half an hour and I'm going for a run."  
  
"Well, good for you," Sara answered. "And you woke me up because????"  
  
"I didn't want you to wake up to an empty house and worry."  
  
"Oh, don't fret, I wouldn't worry at all," Sara smiled, a sly smiled forming on her mouth.  
  
"Well thanks," Nick replied. He tossed the pillow back at her and went to leave.  
  
Nick returned about a half an hour later. He locked the door behind he and pulled off his sweaty t-shirt. He glanced at the couch and was surprised to find it empty. He shrugged and went to his room, to take a shower. As soon as he walked into his room, he found Sara laying in his bed, sound asleep.  
  
Nick sighed and threw his t-shirt in the hamper. Then he went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. He had a spare set of clothes in the bathroom, so he changed in there and run the towel against his hair until it was only a little damp. He brushed his teeth and spotted Sara's wet toothbrush on the counter.  
  
Going back into the bedroom, he shut the bathroom door. He walked over to the bed. Sara was facing away from him, so he leaned over and put his mouth close to her ear, "What do you think you're doing?" he said, just a little louder than a whisper. Sara opened her eyes and rolled over onto her over side, bringing her face within inches of Nick's. "I'm trying to sleep."  
  
"That's what the couch is for," Nick insisted.  
  
Sara sat up and swung her legs over the edge, sitting and facing Nick, who stood up straight. Sara then stood up in front of him and smiled.  
  
"The bed looked comfortable," Sara smiled and Nick couldn't help thinking how sexy she looked. Nick found her eyes staring straight into his. "It is comfortable," he told her.  
  
"I know," Sara whispered, grinning madly.  
  
Nick nodded slowly and kept his eyes glued on Sara. Sara looked at him. She felt a little uncomfortable, but she found that she couldn't do anything other than stare right back at him.  
  
"Nick," Sara started, just above a whisper. She wasn't even sure if he had heard her. She wanted to move away from him, at least just a little. Her heart was pounding so hard, she was afraid it was going to jump right out of her body. She almost felt cornered, but at the same time, she had space to move. Her brain demanded for her to walk away a little, but her legs didn't move an inch.  
  
Nick stared right down into her eyes and Sara wanted to melt. She knew it hadn't been an ideal situation of having to ask to crash at one of her co-workers' houses, but now she realized that Nick had been the worst choice. She had always thought of Nick as just a friend, but lately… Sara wasn't quite sure.  
  
Before she had realized it, his lips had brushed against hers briefly. 'Oh God,' she thought. 'This is wrong. Very, very wrong. We shouldn't be doing this.' Sara let her mind wonder when his lips touched hers again. Sara closed her eyes. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all. When Sara didn't protest to this, Nick kissed her a little more forcefully, but still keeping it gentle. Sara began to kiss him back while she let her hands slowly travel up his undershirt. He hadn't managed to get a shirt on yet.  
  
Even through the fabric, Sara could feel his well sculpted body. 'I guess that comes from playing football,' she thought. She let her arms find their way around his neck. Then she let her lips part to allow his tongue into her mouth. Sara moaned into his mouth when his hands started to travel upwards from her waist, slowly pulling her shirt up with it.  
  
She knew she should have said something. There were clearly issues with what they were doing. But while her hands moved to started pulling her undershirt up, Sara wasn't thinking about the aftermath of what they were doing. She was just living in the moment. 


End file.
